


you are everything

by emullz



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Multi, The Office AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-13 01:38:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4502832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emullz/pseuds/emullz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The camera panned around the office, which looked, for everything they’d heard, like the normal kind of office they’d expect to find in small town Pennsylvania. The cameraman stepped carefully around the wires they’d placed on the floor, determined to make this first shot something they could use, until he reached the salesman in the front, Bellamy. He grinned into the camera, spread his arms wide, and crowed “welcome to the shitshow!”</p><p>or, the office au that took over my life for two weeks and started my slow descent into madness (basically i am the shipper trash lord now. it's official. i've been inaugurated.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. you gotta take a chance on something sometime

**Author's Note:**

> this is an office au. like, the tv show with steve carell and mindy kaling. i love the office. i love the 100. i put them together (sue me) 
> 
> anyways i hope you enjoy. hmu on the media (emullz on ff.net and tumblr, also officialbellarketrash if u want a 100 blog)

When everyone walked into the office that morning, they knew it would be more than a little bit weird to have cameras following them around, but none of them had fully appreciated the scope of the project. There were mounted wall cameras, dash cams placed in the cars that would go out on the most sales cars, sound guys holding boom mics, and a team of guys holding what looked like industrial, lenses-as-big-as-Bellamy’s-head cameras. 

It was more than intimidating. 

And then, when the head camera guy told them to pair up and help strap on mic packs and Clarke immediately started fiddling with the waistband of Bellamy’s pants, well, the morning shaped up to be interesting. Which was something that normally didn’t happen at Bellamy’s boring, entry-level job as a mediocre paper salesman. When he described it to their vaguely Catholic Church confessional setup in the conference room, he didn’t try to dress the job up. 

“What do I do? I sit at my desk, I call people, I tell them to buy more paper. I explain to them what the word ream means, I talk quality, type, and I pray that my death is not half as slow and painful as this job.” He flashed the camera a slow, lazy grin. “I also screw with the guy next to me.” 

In all truth, Bellamy was kind of glad the cameras were there. Too many of the pranks he pulled on Murphy went unappreciated by everyone (but Clarke, of course). And most of them, if he said so himself, were pure, untempered genius. 

And so, when, at the end of the first day of filming, he slipped the jello-covered stapler into Murphy’s desk, he was glad he could shoot the camera a look as he slapped Clarke five. 

\- -

For Clarke, the first day of filming was a whole other can of worms. The beginning was totally fine, with the more “important” members of the office being ushered into the conference room for private interviews. Thelonius was being kept busy enough, obviously spouting his cobbled together, half baked idioms about his “unbelievable prowess as the world’s greatest boss.” It left Clarke free to do her actual job, which consisted of answering phones, making copies, and doing pretty much everything her mother had wished she would rise above. 

And yet, here she was, answering phones on the first ring and saying flatly, “Arksville Paper, this is Clarke.” She obviously wasn’t important, not when her life consisted of a nine to five receptionists job and a fiancé yet still no wedding date. 

So, when she was called into the conference room to have a one on one interview, she was more than a little bit surprised. And the first question, “can you tell us a little bit about yourself,” left her just as dumbfounded. 

“My name is Clarke Griffin… I, um… well I used to go to med school, but then when I finished, I guess… it wasn’t for me, so now I live here and I work at a paper company.” 

The doc guy, who had introduced himself as Miller, paused, looking a little bit like he’d just seen her for the first time. Clarke was used to that look; she got it from anyone who bothered to talk to her about anything other than copies and fax confirmations. It was the “you have an MD and you’re working here?” look. She knew it well. 

“And how do you like your job?” Miller asked after letting the silence go on for just a moment too long. 

Clarke paused, thought. “I mean,” she said with deliberation, “it’s not many little girl’s dream to be a receptionist.” 

She’d finally gotten a smile out of Miller, and it felt like the whole room let out a breath. 

“How about the people? You know, the day to day stuff.” 

“I mean, we sell paper, it doesn’t get very interesting. The people are nice. Thelonius is a little… odd, and Murphy pretty much lives to make my job harder. And, well, I guess if it wasn’t for Bellamy I’d go a little bit insane, but, yeah. It’s not anything special. I’m still unsure why you guys are here.” 

Miller flashed her another smile. “That’s for me to know and you to find out. Thanks for your time.” He shook her hand, and for a minute Clarke felt like she was marginally important, like maybe she could actually play a bigger role in something than the overqualified receptionist. 

On the way back to her desk, Bellamy flashed her a thumbs up and one of his cheesy grins. The next time the phone rang, Clarke had to work to keep the smile out of her voice when she said softly, “Arksville Paper, this is Clarke.” 

At the end of the first day of filming, while the camera crew was packing up, Finn breezed in the door and took in the sight of Bellamy sitting on the edge of Clarke’s desk lazily, under half closed eyelids. Clarke looked up and forced a smile. 

“Hey, babe,” she chirped, reaching around Bellamy to power down her computer. He flushed and slid off the desk. “Oh, Bellamy, we were going to Grounder’s for drinks if you wanted to-“ 

“Actually, Clarke,” Finn cut in, “I’m really tired, and I was kinda hoping we could just go right home, you know, call it a night.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at Clarke with wide, pleading eyes. 

Clarke’s face fell, the softened ever so slightly. “Oh. Yeah, I- that sounds okay. Maybe later, Bellamy.” She walked out of the office door with an odd look in her eyes. 

“Bye, Blake,” Finn called over his shoulder with a smug grin. 

Bellamy looked sideways at the camera, once. He took of his mic, set it down softly on the table, and walked out without a word. 

\- -

Bellamy thought that filming went all right for the first couple of months. He finally managed to achieve a state of balance in which he worked enough to make it look like he was simply competent and achieve a nice commission check, spend an appropriate amount of time scheming against Murphy, and then spend the other six hours of his workday hanging out at reception. 

And there was always the fact that someone was finally around to appreciate the fact that he’d moved Murphy’s desk into the bathroom (and the fact that he stayed in there and worked until his lunch break so he wouldn’t miss any calls).

He’d gone out a couple of times with a sweet girl named Roma who’d come into the office selling purses (only at Octavia and Clarke’s insistence). They’d filmed the Theo’s, where Finn had left when he found out that he would have to pay for drinks in typical Collins fashion. Clarke had gotten smashed, and subsequently banned from Chilis. 

There was also a moment in which she drunkenly pressed her lips to his, and Bellamy had tried to pretend that it was just a play for balance on her part, but he couldn’t get the feel of her out of his head for weeks. He still had her “best mouth to mouth skillz” (with a z because Raven from the warehouse had convinced him that not only was she gangster as hell, but that he could be too if he accepted everything she told him without question) in his car where she’d left it after getting a ride home with Anya, still drunk and still looking beautiful in her work skirt, all flushed cheeks and disorderly hair. 

One of the guys on the doc crew, Miller, the one he sometimes talked baseball with after work, hung out with Bellamy in the parking lot until he felt sober enough to drive home. Or, that was what he told the guy. The private truth, the one that he let sit in his chest like a rock, was that he was waiting until everything about the night faded, until the smell of her didn’t fill his nose and the sound of her drunken giggled and the pressure of her hand grasping his arm was the past and not the present. He stretched the moment as long as possible, sitting on the curb outside the Chilis, and that was when he finally realized. Clarke Griffin was going to ruin him. 

\- -

Clarke was complacent, sitting at her desk and living only in her private dreams. They’d started up when, sitting in the conference room and talking about Thelonius’s newest crisis (he’d decided everyone should carry around a ream of paper and treat it like a baby to learn about office responsibility) when Miller suddenly asked her about a doodle they’d found on her desk when they’d been cleaning up the day before. 

“Oh, thats, um… I doodle, you know, in between phone calls. It’s something to do. It’s just for fun, it’s not-“ 

“Really?” Milled smiled somewhat knowingly. He held up the sketch, a crosshatchy version of a paper clip drawn on the back of paper the copier had ruined. “Because we just had Bellamy in here telling us what a fantastic artist you are.” 

Clarke smiled, wide, at the carpet. “He, um. Yeah. I guess he thinks they’re good.” 

“For what it’s worth,” Miller told her, “we all think they’re great.” 

On the way back to her desk, she couldn’t help but press a kiss to Bellamy’s cheek as she passed his desk as her smile practically lit up the entire office. 

That night, on the way home, Clarke recounted the interview to Finn. 

“That’s cool, babe,” he said flatly, switching on his blinker. 

“And I was thinking, you know, since being a receptionist was never really long term, that I could start going to school at night, or do a program, or- I know it sounds crazy, but Bellamy said I could petition for a couple months off to go to school, somewhere like New York or Philadelphia, and he said the company almost never says no, especially when it’s school-“ Clarke broke of suddenly, noticing Finn’s white knuckled grip on the steering wheel. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, no, I’m fantastic,” Finn hissed, his voice laced with sarcasm. “It’s just great, finally finishing a long day doing nothing but hard manual labor to listen to my girlfriend-“ 

“I’m your fiancé, Finn-“

“That’s just it, isn’t it! My fucking fiancé is off at work talking about art school, and leaving me for dumb program two hours away, and how she’s not happy staying her with me!”

“Slow down,” Clarke said in a low voice, her eyes darting from Finn to the odometer and back again. 

“No! Because you know what takes the fucking cake? Do you? It’s that my fiancé, the girl I’m supposed to marry, is talking about how she wants more than me with the guy who’s done nothing but try to get in her pants since the day he got to the office-“ 

“Slow down, Finn!” The needle inched higher on the odometer. Finn said nothing, just glared at the road. When he turned a corner with the tires screeching, Clarke snapped. 

“Fine, fine, okay! I won’t go to art school, I’m happy here with you, please just slow down!”

Finn smiled lazily, pressing his foot on the brake and bringing the car back down to a manageable speed. “I’m glad we’re on the same page. What do you want to do for dinner?” 

Clarke squeezed her eyes shut, tears dripping onto her lap. “Whatever you want is fine, babe.” 

When Bellamy approached the reception desk the next day asking about art school, Clarke kept her eyes on the computer. “Finn and I decided that wouldn’t be good for us right now, with the engagement and everything.” 

Bellamy reached out to grab her and and then thought better of it, putting his hand in his pocket and glancing around the office furtively. “What about what’s good for you?” he asked softly. 

“We’re happy right where we are,” Clarke said firmly. Bellamy went back to his desk without a word. 

\- -

The next day, Bellamy found Clarke crying on the second floor landing of the stairwell, her back on the railing and her head in her hands. As soon as he sat down next to her, she leaned her head into his shoulder and let him rub circles into her back. 

“How did I end up here, Bell?” 

Bellamy swallowed the lump that had suddenly filled his throat. “I don’t know. But for what it’s worth, I’m glad you made it.” 

\- -

The filming persisted, but most everything else stayed the same. Monty, Clarke’s favorite accountant, came out and got a three month paid vacation after being forced to kiss Thelonius “in the name of equality.” Bellamy filled Murphy’s headset with nickels, Jasper got the munchies at 2 o’clock every day and still managed to sell an acceptable amount of paper, and Kane remained the office scapegoat. 

And then, Casino Night happened. 

Bellamy was still reeling from the night on the booze cruise, after he’d spent the entire night gathering his courage, ready to tell Clarke what he’d known since he’d arrived for his first day of work. And then Collins had gone and set a date (June 9th), and then she’d kissed him like they’d just gotten engaged in that moment and not like they’d already been engaged for five years. And then there was the wedding planning at work, and Clarke was always talking excitedly about the Bachelorette party with Raven from the warehouse, and Bellamy felt like he was going to puke. 

He’d grown up in this town, but Octavia was in college and he didn’t necessarily have to work there anymore. So he talked to corporate about a transfer and then he tried to watch her look at veils and try cake, and he tried to laugh with her while they watched wedding bands audition, but he swore it almost killed him. 

And then she was sitting at the poker table and looking up at him like he was the only thing making her happy and he went all in, because he wanted her to win more than he’d ever wanted anything in a long, long time. 

When she smiled, she lit up the entire warehouse, and Collins wasn’t even there to see her, the magnificence of her in her dress and her childlike enthusiasm. He’d sped off with a condescending “take good care of her for me, Blake,” and she was left standing in the parking lot, waving (a gesture he hadn’t returned). 

He’d gotten the news that morning, that he’d be transferring to the Mount Weather Branch. That he could save himself by taking himself far, far away from her. 

So he asked her if they could get some air and he pried her off of his arm once they’d reached the parking lot and he looked at her under the streetlight, at her hair and smudged lipstick and the little mole above her lip. 

“I have to, uh… I have to tell you something.” 

“Is it that you want to give me more of your money? Because we can get to that right now. I have this funny feeling that I’m going to take you for everything you have tonight, Mr. All-In.” Clarke smiled, wide, and Bellamy squeezed his eyes shut in anticipation of what he was about to say to her. 

“I have to… I’m in love with you.” 

The smile slid off of Clarke’s face. “What?” 

Bellamy kept his eyes shut. “And I’m sorry if this is weird, or if this- God, I don’t know, I just- I had to say it. I…” 

“What are you doing, Bellamy?” He opened his eyes at the gentle way she said his name. “What do you expect me to say to that?” 

Bellamy thought about the transfer, about how he was going to leave her alone in that office with all of her dreams floating unrealized right in front of her, and then he thought about all the times she’d fallen asleep on his shoulder during meetings, and smiled at him across the office when he felt like his life had no meaning, and he realized that he couldn’t tell her. 

“I just needed you to know. Once.” 

“I-“ Clarke’s breath caught in her throat. “I can’t.” 

Bellamy laughed out of spite, at the cruelty of it all. “Of course,” he said, more to the sadistic God who presided over the universe and less to Clarke. 

“But you… you have no idea what your friendship-“ 

“Don’t.” Bellamy could feel a tear trace its way down his cheek and he cursed it silently. “Come on. I don’t want to do that. I want to be more than that.” 

There was silence, and a car sped past the parking lot. Clarke had her arms crossed around her stomach. She had a wild look in her eyes, like she was lost, but she had no home to go to even if she’d known where she was. 

“I can’t.” 

Bellamy forced a smile and jammed his hands into his pockets. “Okay. I… yeah. You can’t.” 

Clarke coughed. “It’s, um… I’m sorry. It’s probably my fault, if you misinterpreted things-“ 

Bellamy almost laughed again. “It’s not your fault. God, how could you ever think that any of this is your fault?” 

Clarke looked at him, dumbfounded, and he couldn’t do it anymore, he couldn’t bear to look at her face knowing that he’d taken his shot and it was over. So he left, and she stood there, under the lights, for several long minutes. Once she’d let several tears drip off her chin and onto the asphalt, she went wordlessly into the office and dialed the phone. 

“Wells? Yeah, I’m sorry it’s kinda late, I just really needed to talk. Bellamy, he- yeah, I know you told me so. I don’t know what I’m going to do. Yeah, I- I think I do…” 

And then Bellamy threw open the door and Clarke said a hasty goodbye to Wells before she started to say his name, to try and explain something she didn’t even understand herself when he grabbed her and fit his lips to hers. 

Clarke froze, and Bellamy had started to pull away when she gave in and wound her hands around his neck, tugging at his curls and working her mouth against his. He was the one to pull away, breathing heavily but still saying nothing. Clarke let him take her hand in both of his, reveling in the feeling of being surrounded by him, if only for a moment. When he started to lean in again, Clarke took a small step back, the backs of her legs pressing against the desk. 

“I…” Clarke licked her lips and found she couldn’t look at him, not in the eyes, not when she was about to say what she needed to say. She focused on his hands instead, the ones that had tapped on her desk, pressed against hers to compare sizes, and brushed her hair out of her eyes what seemed like thousands of times.

“I can’t.” 

Bellamy leaned in and kissed her forehead before he walked out of the office. When Clarke caught a glimpse of his face in the hallway lights right before he began to go down the stairs, she saw none of the usual glimmer he had when he caught her eye during work, none of the spark or the exasperation that he wore on his features when dealing with Murphy. It was like everything that had made him Bellamy was gone, and he was done. 

Clarke picked up the phone again, but dialed a different number. “Yeah, Finn, it’s me. I need you to pick me up. No, I can’t find another ride, can’t you just-? I need you here, now.” She listened to Finn’s groan as he hung up, and then she heard laughter drifting up through the vents, mixed with the soft thump of a bassline. 

And then, she wondered how her entire world could fall apart, and everyone else could still be having fun at Casino Night just downstairs.


	2. i miss having fun with you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the part when bellamy comes back from mount weather and clarke walks on hot coals. also kissing.

For Bellamy, Mount Weather was just what he needed. The desks weren’t in clumps like a first grade classroom, his coworkers didn’t behave like six year olds, and instead of calling conference room meetings about anything that struck his fancy, the boss had them playing Call of Duty for office morale. It was like Bellamy had graduated- to middle school, if the choice of game was any indication, but graduated nonetheless. It was a branch where they actually sold paper, he was getting paid more, he had a real boss. And, the icing on the cake, the receptionist was a 20 something guy named Jackson who was trying to save up enough money to go to medical school. 

He sat in front of a pretty girl named Echo, who was not only exactly what he’d thought his type was before Clarke (tall, brunette, and self-assured), but also the best salesperson in the branch. The only person in the entire company who did a better job than her was Murphy, and that was because he didn’t sleep. Neither did Echo, when she came over to Bellamy’s after work, but that was definitely something he didn’t want to compare to Murphy. He really didn’t think he’d ever get that image out of his head. 

It was easy to get her into his bed, he realized. All he had to do was treat her like he used to treat Clarke: leave coffee on her desk every morning, make faces at her to see her smile during meetings, squeeze her shoulder in that special spot that made her have fits of giggles every time he passed her desk (Echo just smiled and slapped his hand away, but it worked just the same). 

He missed her, but it was better. He didn’t have to watch her pick out roses, and she didn’t have to feel bad looking at him, thinking that it was all her fault. Echo was enough like her that he managed to stop up the gaping hole in his chest, and he knew he shouldn’t be using her, but he didn’t know how else to keep getting up in the morning. They joked, they drove in to work together, and they both pretended they thought the other was fully invested in the relationship. 

Bellamy wasn’t happy, but he was okay. 

Clarke was exactly the opposite. She’d called off her wedding, gotten a shoebox apartment that she could barely afford, and she spent her time dodging Finn’s calls like a trained professional. When, around three months after she’d moved out, he stopped calling, Clarke decided to stop caring. 

When the film crew came back from their little hiatus and Miller asked to be filled in, Clarke offered up a little smile. “I’m trying to be more confident, and stop second guessing everything. I’m going to be totally and completely myself. And I’m really sorry you didn’t catch the original epiphany on tape. I guess that’s your fault for leaving us alone for so long.” 

Miller couldn’t resist giving her a hug on her way back to her desk, which Clarke returned wholeheartedly. 

So, on the whole. everything was going okay. And then, the merger. 

It was a surprise to everyone, especially because Thelonius was too full of grandeur to get anything done, and nobody else in the office cared enough to fix it. Before Bellamy had left, he could sometimes temper the madness with Clarke’s help, but with him gone, Clarke couldn’t really find it within her to try. The office had descended mostly into chaos, and Clarke had thought that if any branch would be closing, it would be theirs. They were absorbing Mount Weather instead, and Thelonius was acting like he was king of the world. If the merger didn’t mean that Bellamy would be coming back, Clarke would’ve quit just on principle. 

And she was really glad she didn’t when he walked in the door, all tousled hair and rolled up sleeves, and Clarke launched herself out of her chair and into his arms. Bellamy paused for a second, shell-shocked, and then he regained his senses and wrapped his arms around her, squeezing the breath out of both of them. 

“I missed you,” she whispered into his hair, and he was too choked up to reply, but it was okay. When they finally pulled back, Bellamy a little self conscious and Clarke grinning like the sun, they both offered a little glance at the camera. “Welcome back to the shit show,” Clarke told him. 

Bellamy looked around, at the same office he’d left six months ago, and then at Clarke’s hands, ringless, and then behind him at Echo, who was chatting with one of their coworkers from Mount Weather. When he replied “it’s good to be back,” he didn’t know if he was lying or not. 

The silence surrounding them got too long, and Clarke burst out awkwardly, “you missed the Theo’s.” 

Bellamy started. “Oh, did I? Yeah, I guess I forgot. What’d you get this year?” 

“Lamest Wedding.” Clarke blushed scarlet. “I guess since Thelonius already bought the gift, and a new tie, he was a little… you know, when it didn’t end up happening. You got the ‘Invisible Man’ award. He’s keeping it for you on his desk, if you want to go get it.” 

“No, it’s-“ Bellamy scuffed his foot on the ground, his eyes roving their way over her desk. She’d started putting out Mike and Ikes instead of Jelly Beans, and it made him feel like he didn’t belong. “It’s okay. I was supposed to show Echo around, you know, find her a desk, make sure she doesn’t get lost on her way to the water cooler.” 

“Oh, that’s fine,” Clarke said, pushing him in the general direction of the coat rack. “Settle back in during the rare period of calm.” 

Bellamy walked away, to put his bag on his chair and figure out how to be there with her again. When he’d thought about it for a couple minutes and could think of nothing but they way she smiled when he walked in the door, he made up his mind and got back up. She was sitting at her desk, on her computer, trying not to look over at him. When Bellamy leaned over the counter like he used to, before everything had fallen to shit, and grabbed a handful of Mike and Ikes, she looked up and smiled. 

“So,” he said, looking over to where Murphy’s empty desk sat. “It looks like Public Enemy Number One is out on a sales call. What should we do to his chair?” 

“Take the screws out?” Clarke asked excitedly, accepting the candy he offered and opening her bottom desk drawer, where they kept everything they could possibly need to mess with Murphy away from prying eyes. 

“Screws? Griffin, you’ve gotten soft.”

Clarke grinned like that cat who’d caught the canary. “It’s just that I already disabled the lever that makes it go up and down last week. Every time he sat down he would sink to the floor. He ended up taking calls from 6 inches off the ground all day.”

“I take it back,” Bellamy said, raising his hands in front of him, palms forward. “You are now the master. I defer to your better judgement.” 

“I say we do nothing, just laugh a little whenever he sits down.” Clarke held up a couple of tiny silver screws they’d stolen from the janitor’s closet. “And put these in your paper clip bowl.” 

“You’re a genius.” 

Murphy ended up calling the maintenance guy, who took one look at his chair and laughed. Thelonius yelled at him for wasting precious office time and money, and Murphy punched the buttons on his phone keypad so hard the six broke off. But when, at the end of the day, Murphy left, Bellamy walked out of the office without so much as a word, Echo holding onto his arm and looking exasperated. 

“I was really busy and wouldn’t help you antagonize somebody I’d just met, so you ditched me and used the receptionist instead?” Clarke caught her saying as they waited for the elevator. 

“It’s Clarke,” Bellamy said as the elevators doors dinged shut. 

~

Echo and Bellamy seemed to be doing well, Clarke thought, or at least better than she’d thought they’d go. Clarke had even made an effort to be friends with the intimidating saleswoman, figuring if Bellamy liked her, she had to be nice. And she was, when Clarke approached her. 

That just made it easier to let go of her dreams of Bellamy, or so she told herself every day. What she wouldn’t admit is that it made it a million times worse, because in all her dreams of Bellamy she was by his side. 

And that was why, on beach day, after Thelonius had been believing in Bellamy and Murphy and everybody else but her, Clarke took one look at him and walked over the hot coals. It burned, like she thought it would, but Clarke hadn’t gone to med school for nothing, and she knew what she was getting herself into. What she didn’t know was how powerful she’d feel after, while the nerves in her feet hadn’t really registered the pain to her brain yet, and what it would prompt her mouth to say. 

“I did the coal walk. I did it. And I know that I’m not in charge, but I run the office, you know? If it wasn’t for me, doing all the stuff nobody else wants to do, the whole place would fall apart. And it didn’t used to be just me, I used to be able to count on people, people who left and went away, and- fuck it, everyone knows I’m talking about Bellamy. Everyone knows I called off my freaking wedding because of Bellamy.” 

Bellamy’s hands were in his lap and the length of his thigh was pressed against Echo’s on the log where they sat, but his eyes were totally and completely on Clarke, on the way her hair was drying and the way her eyes looked in the firelight. 

“I miss you, you know? You came back from Mount Weather, but you didn’t bring the pieces of you that were my best friend, and I’m having a really hard time being the office glue without you helping me, and I guess what I’m trying to say is that I need you. And my feet really hurt, so I’m going to go walk in the lake now.” 

Miller followed her, the camera perched on his shoulder. His shoes were off, and he waded in the lake right next to Clarke. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Clarke said, her voice sounding a little weak. “Don’t drop the camera, I don’t think I could take another tragedy.” 

Miller gave Clarke a wry grin. “I think me dropping a camera in a lake would be more of a comedy than a tragedy.” 

“Can I cut in?” Bellamy asked suddenly, and Miller stepped back a little, to make room. “That was some speech.” 

“It wasn’t a speech,” Clarke said sharply. “It was the truth. I’m done sitting around like an idiot, like all I’ll ever be is the receptionist in a dumb office building with a jackass for a boyfriend and a best friend she’s been in love with for years, and I promised myself I’d be more honest, you know? And honestly, you’re an asshole, and the jokes you tell aren’t funny, and-“ 

Bellamy cut Clarke off by wrapping her up into a hug and burying his face into her shoulder. “You know I missed you too, right?” 

Clarke laughed weakly, her eyes watering. “I’m not a mind reader.” 

~

Bellamy’s brain had been on overdrive for weeks. He was back in an office with Clarke every day trying to convince himself he wasn’t in love with her, Echo had been asking him about his feelings, and now he had a job offer from corporate that could fix all of his problems. 

Until, of course, Echo spoke out into the awkward silence of the car ride. “I’d move to New York for you.” 

Bellamy coughed. 

“I’d move for you. I want to see where this goes, and I think you’re worth it.” There was a silence, a pause in the conversation that Bellamy thought a better boyfriend wouldn’t have let settle over them like a blanket. “Would you move for me?” 

“I don’t… I haven’t thought that far ahead yet. It’s just an interview.” Echo turned her face away from his and practically smashed her fist into the radio button, cranking up NPR until he could barely hear himself breathing. They listened to a piece about the lowering gas prices without talking the entire way to New York. 

Echo was called into the interview first. She looked the part of the fierce businesswoman, all winged eyeliner and power suit, but Bellamy couldn’t help but compare her to Clarke’s soft edges and cardigans. He’d grown up around women, and he knew that the side they portrayed to the world was only the tip of the iceberg, that under Echo’s edge was uncertainty and under Clarke’s down was armor. He could only wish he had some armor of his own. 

“Go have lunch with your friends, I’ll call you when I’m done,” Bellamy reassured Echo before he prepared to step into the room to chat with Corporate. “I don’t want you to sit around here and wait for me.” 

Echo kissed his cheek and breezed out, and there was nothing left for Bellamy to do except go into the office and shake the hand of whatever corporate goon was waiting to talk to him, to smile and nod and do anything to get out of the hellhole fate had placed him back into. 

And then his bag fell over and out tumbled a sketch of a stapler incased in jello, the words "don’t forget us when you’re a big-shot" curling around the top. Bellamy smiled. 

~

“Do you think Bellamy’s going to get the job?” Miller asked. Clarke looked down at her lap, to where her fingers were intertwined and she fidgeted in her seat. 

“I can’t imagine they’d give the job to anyone else. Bellamy’s qualified, and he’s smart, and he’s a hard worker. And I hope he gets it, and that he’s successful and he finds everything he wants in New York, because he deserves it-“ 

There was a knock on the door, and then it opened and Bellamy burst through and shut it behind him, gathering Clarke up in his arms and kissing her. Clarke melted into him and wound her arms up around his neck. When Miller coughed, Clarke turned back and bit her lip, trying to contain her smile. 

“I’m sorry, what was the question?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you like this. i may end it here, just because i'm not sure if i have it in me to commit to another long fic, but if it is desired that i continue on into the later parts of the relationship, i will do it gladly. 
> 
> thank you for reading, i hope you enjoyed and didn't hate it too much.

**Author's Note:**

> there will be more chapters. i'm gonna be ambitious and say that i'm going to try and cover as much of the jim and pam arc as i can, and if anybody wants me to focus more on another storyline, please say so (also i'm gonna make up a minty one cause cameraman and accountant is adorable and i want it) 
> 
> thanks for reading i hope u enjoyed


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